Goodbye, Dear Friend
Goodbye, Dear Friend
As many Alameda Sun readers know, Carrie Beavers and the Alameda Sun were synonymous for a decade. To many Alameda residents, Carrie was the face of the Sun, the first person they saw when they visited. To nearly everyone who came by, Carrie was immediately friendly, generous and caring.
Carrie is the first member of this newspaper’s staff to pass away. She worked at the Sun from 2005 to 2015. At the front desk, Carrie might have consoled residents dropping off obituaries, gone to bat for deserving nonprofits asking for space to promote their fundraisers, and when the occasional dispute arose, she often took the customer’s side.
She sold everything the Sun ever had to offer, from classified ads, to inserts, from T-shirts to history books, from legal announcements to space on the web. And when she wasn’t doing that, Carrie helped with technical support, information technology, internal marketing, payroll administration, bookkeeping and human resources. According to former editor Marc Albert, she was also “more like a den mother.”
Carrie looked after the Sun’s bumper crop of interns, often keeping in touch after the youngsters left to pursue their careers and college degrees.
Carrie was a dear friend to me, listening to concerns both personal and professional. She supported the Alameda Sun staff through dark days and difficult times. She was an essential part of the Sun staff for two thirds of its existence so far. It was Carrie who first used the phrase “let’s get past the bubblegum and Band-aid phase” (meaning let’s run the Sun like a proper grown-up business.)
Carrie and I shared fun times at company dinners, A’s games and Super Bowl parties. Myself and other staff members were honored to share the moments when she committed herself to her husband, Peter McCullough.
Carrie saw me personally through break ups and make ups, through deaths in the family and the inevitable interpersonal squabbles. She looked after pets for staff people on vacation, and helped me settle things after being injured in a car accident. Eventually I came to refer to her as “the sister I never had.”
Carrie loved animals and always seemed to want to help those who needed help. She was creative and crafty, and could crank out a thoughtful and impactful editorial when an issue got her riled up.
We know Carrie loved her three daughters and brand new granddaughter, her husband, Peter, and dear friends Denise, Brian and JoanAnn. She also adored her pets: Marlowe, Star, Bambi and Kiwi.
To celebrate Carrie’s life, we invite members of the Alameda community to donate to the Friends of Alameda Animal Shelter, Alameda Welfare Council and/or the Rotary Club of Alameda.
I’d also like to invite anyone who wishes to pen a remembrance of this wonderful lady, to have it published in the Sun. Feel free to write to firstname.lastname@example.org and tell me how you remember Carrie Beavers.